


What Hatches

by malleusmaleficarum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, Bottom Will, Cannibalism kink, Dark Will, Hair-pulling, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Restraint, Sensitive Hannibal, Top Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 10:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4832846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malleusmaleficarum/pseuds/malleusmaleficarum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Is that something you imagine me doing?” Hannibal asked, lips brushing against Will’s earlobe.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Will was unable to turn to Hannibal, the tight grip rendering his neck taut and immobile. He smiled, relishing the complete control Hannibal had taken with only one hand. “Every night.”</em>
</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>Unspecified hideout shortly after the fall. Will embraces the darker parts of his psyche, using these new intrigues to lure Hannibal into unleashing his true nature. But Will also brings out a softer side in the doctor, resulting in some complex dynamics in the bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Hatches

“I said, I want to know if you’ve ever eaten anyone alive.” Will’s words were measured, each syllable clearly distinguished from the next. The shyness, the aversion to eye contact that had plagued him in the days of their budding friendship - these traits had long melted away. Now – after all that they’d been through, after their subtle declaration of love and their tumbling into the dark, roiling sea – there was a comfortable transparency between the two. Looking into Hannibal’s eyes was like looking inward. He was no longer afraid of what had previously lain dormant within, and in the same way, he was no longer afraid of Hannibal. 

Though they had quite literally fallen, they had, in every other way, ascended.

Hannibal swallowed and sighed, placing his knife and fork down noiselessly onto his plate. “Technically, yes,” he began, regaining composure with a sip of rosé. “But it depends entirely upon your definition. I ate Abel Gideon’s limbs in front of him while he was still breathing. And you recall what I did to Francis Dolarhyde, don't you? Is that what you mean?”

Will smirked. “No. No, I mean, did you hold someone down and _eat_ them as they squirmed beneath you, screaming? Did you feel their life escaping as you devoured them bit by bit?  Did you tear out their heart as it was still beating and have their last conscious image be your teeth sinking into the muscle?” There was a spark of viciousness in Will’s eyes now, his breath quickening, knuckles whitening around his wine glass.

Hannibal’s nails clawed into the veneer of the dining table, the sound of Will’s voice stirring up something utterly primal within him. He kept a calm demeanor, however, finishing off his wine and smoothing out the creases in his vest as he rose. Will’s eyes followed him as he crept towards the other side of the table and behind Will’s chair. Hannibal threaded his fingers through Will’s haphazard curls, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, contact releasing the warm scent of his lover’s shampoo. Slowly, he leaned down next to Will’s ear, tightening the grip on his hair and causing a quiet whimper to escape Will’s throat, followed by a breathy laugh.

“Is that something you imagine me doing?” Hannibal asked, lips brushing against Will’s earlobe.

Will was unable to turn to Hannibal, the tight grip rendering his neck taut and immobile. He smiled, relishing the complete control Hannibal had taken with only one hand. “Every night.”

Before Will could exhale, Hannibal turned his head forcefully to the side, pointed teeth latching vampirically onto his neck’s sensitive flesh. Will let out a surprised moan, one hand clenched to the chair’s arm, the other pulling Hannibal closer, fingers finding a hold at the nape of Hannibal’s neck.

The taste of Will’s blood on Hannibal’s tongue sent him into immediate frenzy. After a minute of suckling at the wound and licking up the flow of blood, he released his mouth from Will’s neck and let go of his hair, the absence of pressure causing Will’s scalp to warm. Ripping open the blue flannel draped over Will’s chest, buttons pit-patting onto the marble tile, Hannibal kneeled to the floor and sunk his teeth into Will once again, just over the right nipple. “ _Hannibal--”_

Hannibal sucked hard in response to Will’s gasps and began leaving huge, bruisy suck marks all along the other man’s ribs, claiming him with the unique signatures of his teeth. As he ventured lower, it became hard to ignore the distinct tent in Will’s jeans. But he wouldn’t touch him. Not yet.

Not until he’d enjoyed the main course.

Hannibal moved down Will’s writhing body, placing a hand over his pounding heart while humming into the soft flesh jammed between his teeth. He could feel the way Will’s moans vibrated against the enamel, the sensation nearly pushing him to rip clean through the skin. Instead, he willed himself to pull his mouth off the reddening flesh, his breathing labored both from the effort and from his own arousal; it was hard to deny now what the combination of Will’s comments and his distinct flavor had done to him. He rose from his knees, smirking as he ghosted a hand along the trail he’d carved from Will’s neck to his hip bone. The jagged pink of the smile stretched away from the marks, the color contrasts appearing like a crude painting on Will’s pale torso. Marking Will in these ways had become a source of pride, as well as comfort; he knew that even when these bruises faded, the scars would remain, likely for the rest of Will’s days. Of course, Hannibal didn’t plan on leaving him without fresh wounds for any large stretch of time.

“Hannibal – _please_ , I…” Before Will could finish, Hannibal’s mouth was on his, and for a moment, he thought he’d be swallowed whole. He bit down on Will's bottom lip, eliciting another moan that drowned down Hannibal’s throat. He stayed latched on for some time, rubbing his fingers over the still-open wound on his lover’s neck. He pulled away, but with Will's lip still caught between his teeth, a low whine escaping from the back of Will's throat.

Finally, he let go, cupping Will's chin with his hand, blood trickling from his swollen lip to the webbing between Hannibal's thumb and forefinger. “Will,” he said, trading off his feral behavior for a strange brand of gentleness. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to eat alive.”

Will’s brow furrowed. The still-image of a bonesaw cutting into his forehead flashed through his mind. As quickly as the thought had come, Hannibal had swept him up, carrying him towards their bedroom, which lay beyond the darkened stairwell. Tonight, their dinner would go cold and unfinished. 

Hannibal sat Will down on the bed. With deft hands, Will pulled on Hannibal’s belt, sending the pressed trousers cascading to the floor in a wrinkled pile. He grasped desperately at the other man's erection through the thin fabric of his boxers, looking up at Hannibal for approval. As if by force of habit, Hannibal ran his hand through Will’s curls again, sending that musky sweetness back into the air. He savored it, just as he would soon savor the feeling of Will’s mouth enveloping him. He nodded once.

Will closed his eyes and rubbed a stubbled cheek against his lover's covered cock, a wet spot already seeping through the fabric. Will let out a long, blissful sigh, hot breath causing Hannibal's already hardened member to strain. Will pulled down the article suddenly, one hand pumping at Hannibal's stiff cock, his mouth falling agape in response. After a few moments of teasing, Will slowly began to take the length, allowing himself to become accustomed to the unfamiliar flavor and size. Hannibal let out a sigh as Will’s mouth traveled lower.  From bites and tugs, to licks and strokes, the roughness had subsided. For the moment.

Soon, Will became more comfortable with the act. On each downstroke, he ran his tongue along the underside of Hannibal's shaft; as he came up, he slid it across the tip in circular motions. Hannibal’s exhalations were now coming out in huffy pants, his entire body shivering; he lifted a shaky hand to his forehead to slick back a stray strand of gelled hair that had come loose as he began to unfold at the behest of Will’s quickening motions, his amber eyes wild with lust.

Will looked up at Hannibal and took in the sight of his lover coming apart at the seams. He reveled in the other man’s unusually disheveled appearance, locking this image away for later. He’d never felt so much power over Hannibal – over another person ever, really – and this thought alone nearly sent Will over the edge without having been touched.

“I wanted to eat you that night, Will,” Hannibal gasped out after a time, biting his own lip hard enough to draw blood. “I wanted to _consume_ you. Taste what knowledge that special brain of yours had to offer – _ahhh_.” Will’s fingernails were digging into the outside of Hannibal’s thighs, drawing pinpricks of blood that collected beneath his nails. He twisted his head left and right so his tongue could find every inch of Hannibal’s cock, but even with these intricate movements, Will kept his eyes locked onto Hannibal’s the entire time.

Hannibal was spilling over now. His cool attitude had never been so cleanly infiltrated by one person. He cursed in Lithuanian, pulled at Will's hair, desperate to find some hold to keep him from floating away entirely.

In most cases, Hannibal felt that sex was as clinical as surgery or psychiatry – multiple methods with the same end result, and often used to suit other purposes. But sex with Will was different.

Will _knew_ him.

This realization made him feel vulnerable – a feeling that, until now, was quite unfamiliar. 

He pulled Will off by his hair and flipped him over onto the side of the bed, yanking down Will’s jeans with one swift motion. Will let out a deep groan as he felt the slick, swollen head pressing up against his entrance. He gripped the duvet, readying himself for the overwhelming pressure to follow.

" _Are you ready?_ " Hannibal's voice was thick, drunk off of the empath's influence. 

"God, yes," Will whined, pushing his ass against Hannibal's pelvis. "Just... fuck me,  _please._ "

Hannibal bound Will's hands behind his back before pushing himself inside the tight warmth. Will buried his face into the linens, whimpering. He thought he’d come apart, like so many mutilated corpses he’d been forced to see. He felt the need to scratch something, but he could only press his fingernails into the flesh of his palms, his own blood mixing with Hannibal’s. He could feel the smudge of dried blood on his neck cracking like old paint as he strained. 

“Shhh, Will,” Hannibal whispered, leaning down to kiss along his lover’s shoulder blades. “It will get better soon, my dear. I promise.”

Will’s head began to spin with Hannibal's shifts in attitude - one moment: wild, bloodthirsty; the next: concerned, tender, even. He never knew what to expect to come out of Hannibal's mouth when they were making love – which, for him, made it all the more enticing.

Hannibal pulled out slowly, Will gasping at the sudden emptiness. And then he was full again, Hannibal’s grip tightening on Will’s arms. He began a slow rhythm, listening intently to Will’s uneven breaths, adjusting his hips slightly each time. He thrusted upwards, and this time, Will let out a long mewl of pleasure.

“That’s it,” Hannibal purred, stroking Will’s spine with his unoccupied hand. “That’s what you’ve been waiting all night for, isn’t it.”

“Unnh, _yes_ … k-keep going.”

“As you wish.”

Hannibal wrapped an arm around Will’s throat, hand clasped around the stubbled cheek that held the scar from Dolarhyde’s blade. With each thrust, Will felt the bundle of nerves inside him throb with each prod of Hannibal's thick cock; every thrust released a jolt of pleasure that possessed his entire body, and all he could do was convulse in Hannibal’s arms, completely at the mercy of the doctor’s whims. His moans came out in _ha… ha… ha_ ’s, his mouth completely agape and eyes fused shut as his lover relentlessly fucked him into the mattress. And as Hannibal listened to these obscene noises - noises coming from the same mouth that had been teasing him about his unsavory eating habits - he almost had to shut it out, for fear that this level of pure eroticism would send him over too soon.

Will was grinding his cock into the bed now, the simultaneous sensations causing his shouts to grow louder in volume. “Yes, sing for me, Will,” Hannibal rasped, the tempo of his thrusts matching the desperate bucking of Will’s hips, their bodies moving in harmony. Hannibal could feel he was losing control, coil deep in his belly tightening. He could feel the sweat from Will's bound hands collecting in his own, his back covered in a sheen of it, like the morning dew that appeared on the grass the morning of their escape. He felt like the universe was coming together, like so much broken china. And, God, he could feel Will  _shaking,_ struggling to hold out for the orgasm that was surely closing in.

“Oh, oh, Hannibal – oh God! I-I’m coming, yes yes yes _yes._ ” Will froze, his head thrown back, chin still perched in Hannibal’s hand as his seed pooled hot and messy beneath his stomach, every strangled moan stifled by the hand covering his open mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it…” Hannibal gasped, kissing along the side of Will’s scrunched face, thrusts fast and erratic before letting out a sharp grunt and coming inside Will just moments after him. Hannibal let his head fall onto Will’s back, both men struggling for breath, not unlike the day they ascended from the swaying tides. But, here, there was no danger. Only themselves, fused together in carnal bliss. Yin and yang. 

Will’s eyes were already fluttering beneath shiny lids when Hannibal slid into bed. He wove his fingers through Will’s hair once again, but Will didn’t feel it now, already falling into a deep sleep. “I can’t live without you, Will,” Hannibal whispered to the sleeping figure. “Not after I’ve had you like this.” He laid awake like this until he grew too tired to hold himself up. His hand remained caught in the dark curls through the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hannigram has brought out kinks in me I never knew existed.


End file.
